Personal Target: An Elite Ops Novel (16 page)

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You can’t walk through the lobby of the Grand Hotel du Niger in a bloody shirt without attracting attention. We’d like to avoid that if possible.” He slipped the dark button-down shirt off. He had a black tee on underneath. “Hollywood, drop us a block away.”

“Yeah,” Bryan said. “I’ll dump the truck and get some more transportation. They’ll be looking for this.”

Moments later Bryan stopped at the side of the road. The hotel was visible in the distance. Nick opened the door and helped her out, his touch as gentle as his look was grim. Helping her put his shirt on over her blouse, he buttoned it for her in a couple of places to cover the blood on her clothing. If she hadn’t seen his face, she would have no idea he was furious with her.

“Can I have my backpack and purse?” she asked.

Nick took the first-aid kit from her and slipped it into her purse before lifting both bags out of the truck bed and sliding them onto his own shoulders. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” said Bryan. “I’ve got to talk to some people.”

“Sounds good. See you in a bit.” Nick took Jennifer’s hand firmly in his as they walked in silence along the road up to the entrance of the hotel.

She was happy not to talk, particularly as anger still radiated off Nick like the heat rising off the black asphalt. No one was out front, save one security guard smoking a cigarette. Nick nodded to him as they walked inside.

The sliding glass doors led them to an air-conditioned oasis that looked very different from what Jennifer had seen on the dusty street outside. Cool white marble floors, crystal chandeliers, an indoor fountain, and leather couches decorated the lobby. A crowd of businessmen speaking multiple languages stood in line at the front desk.

Nick kept hold of her hand and bypassed them all, walking through more sliding doors and past a massive swimming pool, then down a series of steps leading to the hotel grounds beside the river. His eyes were flat and emotionless. His long strides ate up the path before them. Once beyond the pool he picked up his pace and moved so fast she was out of breath, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

The hotel grounds were massive and spotted with bungalows that spread out from the main building along a paving stone path that wound steadily closer to the water. Jennifer thought it would have been a lovely place to sit and gaze over the landscaping, but Nick didn’t appear the least bit interested in the view as he led her to the cottage farthest from the pool and closest to the river. He still wasn’t speaking when they climbed the steps onto the porch that ran perpendicular to the water. The bungalow itself was situated sideways beside the river. Without a word, he opened the door and steered her inside.

The living room was small with a leather sofa, a massive window facing the water, and a kitchenette tucked in the corner. Doors on either side of the main living area led to what she assumed were two bedrooms and baths. Nick took her into the room on the right and didn’t let go of her hand until he’d shut the door and flipped the thumb latch.

Mosquito netting hung from the ceiling but was drawn back to the headboard of a king-size bed. A fan mounted on the wall lazily stirred the air. He slung her backpack and handbag off his shoulder, setting them on the long dresser with a decided
thwack
.

His not talking was starting to make her a little nervous, but even more than that was his lack of eye contact. She stood in the center of the room trying to catch her breath. Bryan had said he wouldn’t be back for a while. It was shaping up to be a long, uncomfortable evening.

Nick turned his back to her after unloading her bags. He didn’t appear to be ready to talk yet. She should be relieved, right?

This was crazy. She had to say something. It was past time for one of them to be speaking. But where to start?

Thank him for saving her? Apologize for running away? As much as she hated to admit it, running away was exactly what she’d done in Dallas. Apologizing was the obvious place to start.

She took a breath, and the words came out in a rush. “Nick, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have left without talking to you. Thank you for what you did today. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t—”

She broke off as he turned to her. His gaze held her captive, even though his eyes were no longer filled with smoldering fire. Instead, his expression was awash in misery.

“Dammit, Jenny. Do you have any idea how much you scared me?”

Chapter Fourteen

J
ENNIFER COULD ONLY
stare as Nick’s words poured out in a torrent.

“I had no fucking idea where you were. I wouldn’t have had a clue how to find you if that man in the cab had succeeded, not to mention the shooter on the roof.”

Nick’s hands were shaking as he reached for her shoulders and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her with a force that took her breath. She had no idea what to say, but words weren’t necessary because he wasn’t finished talking yet.

“Don’t ever do that again. No matter how upset you might be with me, don’t ever leave when I’ve told you it’s dangerous. God, I was going crazy till I found you.” He buried his face in her hair, the desperation in his voice translating to his entire body.

Her mind was catching up to what was happening here. He wasn’t mad, he was just scared spitless for her. That made sense. It was something like what she’d felt when he’d left after their summer together to join the Navy. Only she hadn’t been able to tell him how scared she was for him then or to even object to his leaving.

She hadn’t realized how the fear had affected her until it was too late. She’d felt that same terror this afternoon, listening to those gunshots from the floorboard of that pickup truck and wondering if she was going to lose Nick before she got a chance to tell him . . . everything.

She lifted her head from his chest to look up, to explain. Before she could speak, he kissed her and steered her backward toward the bed. She stopped walking when the mattress bumped just above her knees and she sat with an
umph
.

He went down on his knees in front of her. No longer playing things cool, he was frantic as he ran his hands up and down her arms.

“I see,” she stuttered.

“Do you? Do you really?” His chest was between her knees and she lifted her hands to his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held on. She felt dirty and grubby from her forty-eight-hour trek across the globe, but he was holding her, really holding her, and that was all that mattered.

“God, when I saw you in that car and that man was holding a gun on you.” He pulled back to look at her again. “Something died inside me.”

He shook his head, and his eyes filled. “Then after . . .”

She touched his hair and brushed over the small bandage covering the stitches on his forehead, wanting to show him she understood. He put his head against her chest and held her as the words tumbled out. “Please, Jenny. Don’t ever . . . I can’t protect you when you do that kind of crazy shit. I want to just lock you in a room somewhere until this is all figured out. It seems like the only way you’ll be safe. Do you understand?” His voice was wild and his hands were everywhere at once.

She nodded, identifying with his fear of losing her because she’d felt the same about losing him. She held the back of his head, wanting to calm him, but he was beyond soothing.

He slid his shirt from her shoulders, then pulled her bloody blouse loose from her waistband. His hands skimmed along her sides. The intensity was even more powerful than she remembered as he kissed her with a determination that had all her resolutions melting away.

She couldn’t think about why this was a bad idea, or why she should talk to him about what had happened ten years ago, or why she should wait to have sex with him until they’d discussed it all. Instead, she closed her eyes and concentrated on feeling.

N
ICK HELD ON
to Jenny, not wanting to ever let go. He’d figure out what that meant later because the white-hot panic at seeing a man hold a gun to her head was not subsiding. Fifty years from now, he’d still see it whenever he closed his eyes.

He could feel her heart beating under his cheek as he clasped her to him and breathed in the scent that was uniquely hers, mixed with the dirt, grit, and blood from earlier. She was whispering soft words that he supposed were meant to comfort him, but he wasn’t hearing her. He couldn’t be nonchalant anymore about what she did to him, and despite all appearances, he wasn’t mad. He’d just been so unbelievably frightened for her—on the plane ride over, in the airport, following her in that damned cab.

All he wanted to do was hold her and make love to her. Mark her as his. Show her that he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her go, or let her loose in the world. If it made him sound chauvinistic or like a Neanderthal, he was beyond caring. He needed her right now like he needed oxygen.

He stood, and her eyes widened as he drew his T-shirt over his head, pulled the gun from his waistband, and toed off his shoes. She watched with a dumbfounded expression, and he would have laughed in another time, in another place. But nothing about this was remotely amusing. He wanted her so much he could hardly breathe. He hadn’t wanted anyone like this, ever.

Only when his hands went to his belt buckle did she seem to register what he intended. Instead of pulling away or shaking her head, she reached forward and helped him with his zipper.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he muttered.

“I’m sure you can take care of that,” she answered and slid his pants down to the floor along with his underwear.

“I believe I can.” He nodded, while pushing her back to the bed and followed her down to the mattress with one knee between her legs. He recognized that he was still entirely too keyed up, even as he reached for her.

Still, she raised up on an elbow. Meeting him halfway, she nipped at his jaw and reached for him, seemingly ready for whatever he wanted. He stared at her a moment longer, steeping in the frantic beat of his own heart. There was no way he was going to do this with any finesse. He was too far over the edge. He kissed her once more.

“Don’t you let me hurt you.” He murmured the words, but his voice was rough.

“You won’t.” She smiled at him as he pulled her shorts and panties off in one motion and skimmed straight to the core of her with his fingers. Her eyes widened again, then closed when she tilted her head back.

He watched her face. The crease between her eyebrows disappeared as she relaxed into the sensation of what he was doing, but she kept her hands on him at the same time. He wanted her so much his own hands were shaking.

She moved her legs and put him exactly where he wanted to be. Pressing against the heat of her, he stopped and mumbled her name. He had to see her, needed to see this was real.

She opened her eyes and stared at him with the faintest of smiles on her face, just like in his dreams. He was inside her so fast, her eyes widened again in pleasure. He raised himself up over the top of her and moved, pushing deeper.

She moaned. The sound of her sighs and the sensation of feeling her surrounding him almost undid him. This was going to be over entirely too soon.

He pulled back and she raised her hips to meet him, slipping her hands down to his ass, pulling him toward her. She moaned again, and he lost all adroitness, pumping like a teenager in a backseat on Friday night. For a moment, he was concerned he was too rough and started to pull away. But she held him to her as she locked her gaze on his and slipped her legs up around his hips.

She smiled, closing her eyes and opening her mouth slightly in a breathy “oh.” He felt her clenching and pulsing around him, felt the sensation start at the base of his spine as he pressed into her once more, and then he was diving off a cliff, falling into the orgasm and whispering her name once more.

J
ENNIFER FELT
N
ICK’S
body completely relax as his weight pressed her into the mattress. His heartbeat slowed to a normal rhythm against her chest while he nuzzled his face into her neck. She wasn’t breathing very well with him on top of her, but she was beyond caring.

She didn’t regret making love with Nick, but she was surprised at his intensity. Over the years she’d thought about being with him more than she cared to admit. Sleeping with Collin had never been like it was with Nick.

She moved her hands to his shoulder and he raised his face to study her. The smoothness of his skin was marred by . . . scars? His shoulder blade felt like latticework, and lower down his back there were butterfly bandages.

She’d felt the raised welts and small pits in his skin earlier but had been much too distracted by the lovely things he was doing to her to think about them. She stopped moving her fingers and slid her hands down his side, where she felt more scarring.

“What’s this?” she asked, touching the bandages again.

He lowered his head and kissed a spot behind her ear before exhaling and levering himself up on an elbow to look at her again. “I got some stitches out last week, and things reopened when I dove off your porch Sunday. They put on a couple of butterflies at the hospital.”

“What happened that you needed so many stitches before my house exploded?”

His open expression changed from relaxed sexy to shadowed wary as if he’d flipped a switch.

“I’m sorry that was nosy. I just—”

He shrugged, but the motion didn’t come across as nonchalant. “Yeah?”

“Um . . . I just realized you might not want to talk about this.”

He nodded and didn’t say anything else.

Okay. So he really didn’t want to talk about this.

He started to move away, but she pulled him back to her, not wanting to break their most intimate connection. He dropped another kiss to her cheek and held her close before rolling away and sitting up with his head against the headboard. She wasn’t sure what he was going to say. From all appearances, he was thinking very seriously about something.

He touched her hair and stared at the end of the bed a moment longer before speaking. “Are you alright with what just happened? I didn’t exactly come dressed for the party. I’m clean. Tested. You don’t have anything to worry about.”